


white valentine's

by n_kei



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Swearing, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16072241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_kei/pseuds/n_kei
Summary: What if Taeyong and Jaehyun attended the same university, and met at the dance studio Taeyong worked at? What if Valentine’s Day was just around the corner? Why, hilarity, sage romance advices from Yuta, and chocolates ensue, of course.





	white valentine's

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that Valentine's Day is half a year away, but fluffy jaeyong fics can't wait. So here you have it, the Valentine's Day fic that no one asked for.
> 
> Please bear in mind that I started this story before hi, hello and borrowed ideas here to build that plot, so there will be a lot of similarities. I couldn't let this story go, it was such a low-hanging fruit. So enjoy the story, feel the fuzzy feels, and give it lots of love <3

“Of all the least thoughtful Valentine's Day gifts, this one takes the cake- no pun intended,” Yuta says in disbelief as he slides the box of Ferrero Rocher over the scanner. “You know there's a list _the length of his arm_ of the people he will be receiving chocolates from today, right?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, cheeks heating in part guilt, part embarrassment as he hastily tugs his wallet from his bag.

Normally he wouldn’t bat an eyelash at a jab like that, but he’s feeling pretty sensitive right now. His hair is pressed to one side from accidentally falling asleep in the library. It’s tucked under his black hood, away from his own judging eyes. He slept a handful of hours in the last 4 days, and there’s a paper in his bag, still hot off the press, waiting to be delivered.

Needless to say, he doesn’t have much patience for Yuta’s usual teasing.

“Shut it. Seeing as you were no help coming up with something original-”

“I wasn’t the one who forgot about Valentine’s Day and my crush’s birthday being on the same day, which is _today_ ,” Yuta points out unapologetically, and yanks a small bag from the stack before packing the box of chocolates up. “That’ll be ₩10,000,” he announces, pushing the bag forward.

Taeyong scoffs. “As a part timer of a chain with such a thoughtful namesake,” he points at the big _FamilyMart_ on the bag, “you should've reminded me a week in advance, given me a list of gift and event ideas, and made reservations for a romantic, candlelit dinner. I should bring this to social media.”

Taeyong fishes through his wallet, pulls out the last green bill and throws it at Yuta’s outstretched hand, who notices his empty wallet and scowls. “Do you even know what you're gonna do? When are you gonna give him the present?”

A vein on Taeyong’s forehead twitches. “I’ll just give him the chocolate and wish him happy birthday and happy Valentine’s.”

Yuta covers his mouth in mock horror. “That’s it? No professing of undying love? No grand romantic gesture? How will he even know that it’s a confession?”

“Because I’m giving him chocolates on Valentine’s Day,” Taeyong answers exasperatedly. “It’ll probably be before dance class today, since he comes in earlier to practice on his own anyway.”

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Chocolates are commercialized and unoriginal. This is so unromantic. And I call double standards on this bullshit. You don't let Jisung practice outside of class hours.”

Taeyong shoves his hands in his pocket and levels Yuta with an unnerving stare. “I've never claimed to be romantic. Also, Jisung is still in high school. If I let him practice whenever he wanted, his grades would plummet and his mother would have my head. I happen to like my head, especially when it's still connected to my neck and the rest of my body.”

Yuta shakes his head. “Right, he's still a minor.”

There's a slight lull in conversation where Taeyong almost loses balance from where he's standing, on two feet, on solid ground.

Yuta narrows his eyes. “You look like shit. Like, you’re literally two steps away from keeling over and passing into next life. Also, I’d ask about your back-up plan,” His eyes pause on something past Taeyong’s shoulder. “-but it seems like you won’t have one anyway. So, good luck, I guess.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes skyward at Yuta’s dramatics.

It's not like he deliberated for a very long time, only since Jaehyun first joined the dance studio which would be two ... years ago. Okay, so maybe he took his time from discovering his feelings, to outright denial, to begrudging acceptance but not doing anything, to now. Some people just take longer than others, he justifies.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Yuta rests his head on his palm and shoots Taeyong a cheeky smile. “Save it. You love this brand of honesty. You can’t get enough of it.”

Taeyong raises a challenging eyebrow. “I don’t know why I stick around only to endure this kind of bullshit.” He stuffs the chocolates inside his bag, then accidentally trips on his own foot.

Yuta’s forehead crinkles as he watches his best friend sway for a moment, and without a word, quickly tosses two triangular gimbap and a warm canned coffee into another bag. He peels out a few blue bills from his wallet and throws them in the till. “Take better care of yourself, idiot.” He pushes Taeyong out the door, looping the plastic bag around Taeyong’s wrist. “I'm totally putting this on the tab with a 10% interest per week. Don't die on me or I'll steal your man and watch you roll in your grave.”

He gives Taeyong a final push, yelling at him to get more rest, and the doors close before Taeyong can flip over for a proper retort.

_Drama queen._

Taeyong scrunches his nose and texts an underhanded message of thanks to Yuta, shoves his hands in his puffy jacket pockets, and makes his way to school. His dance instructor job makes more than Yuta’s part time at the convenience store, so his threat is fake. Plus, between best friends, there’s no such thing as a tab.

His phone buzzes, and a message from Yuta pops up in the preview. Yuta basically said that that if all else fails, they can spend the rest of Valentine’s Day together watching sappy rom-coms. He even offers two tubs of ice cream, courtesy of FamilyMart. Taeyong laughs out loud this time.

The walk to campus takes seven minutes on a nice summer day, but almost double the time with the freshly fallen snow. Taeyong can feel his fingertips freezing and he curses under his breath. Hot chocolate and a scalding shower sound like a great idea. Actually, just the scalding shower.

Maybe if he goes to the dance studio early, he can take a shower and change into more presentable clothes. Taeyong may not be one for romantic gestures, but he doesn’t want to look like shit when he gives Jaehyun the chocolates.

Plus, having worked for three years in the dance studio, Taeyong has moved half of his closet, carefully and neatly, into a locker. He sometimes catches Yuta, Jeno and occasionally Jisung stealing his clothes, but the latter two are quickly growing out of his size, and he doesn't need to nag them to return the t-shirt, hoodies and sweatpants.

With Yuta… he and Taeyong basically share each other’s closets.

With his newly formulated plan, he hurries to school, narrowly sidestepping black ice and metal covers on the road. He’s had one too many accidents falling on flooring-that-is-not-worth-slipping on and, as a result, broken, twisted, bruised and battered many parts of his body. Not doing that again.

As he nears his building, he takes two steps a time, pulls the door open and relishes as the warm air envelopes him completely. He jogs to the professors’ mailboxes, drops off his assignment, and exits the building.

He checks his phone- six minutes before the bus comes- and curses under his breath. He quickly sprints across the campus to get to the bus stop.

With that much running, he forgets about the black ice and feels himself slipping- but twists and catches his footing just in time-

A shadow sidesteps from behind Taeyong.

An apology forms at the tip of Taeyong’s tongue for scaring the other person, but when he looks back, his eyes widen.

Jaehyun retracts his hand slowly, a hesitant smile tugs at his lips.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice muffled by the knitted black scarf. His cheeks are slightly red, probably from the cold. For a moment, Taeyong laments on how unfair it is that while every other student looks like a zombie, Jaehyun still somehow manages to look… well, good.

Taeyong nods, feeling a hundred times more self conscious. “I'm okay, thanks.”

“What’s the hurry?” Jaehyun asks.

Taeyong snaps back. _Shit._ He quickly checks his phone. Three minutes. He can still make it. “Dance studio. Gotta catch the bus. Bye!”

Without waiting for a reply, he hurries off, heart pounding furiously in his chest. He hears Jaehyun yell behind him but thinks nothing of it. He probably said bye back to him.

What he doesn't expect is Jaehyun to jog up beside him, asking if he could join.

Did he hear that right?

“What?” He asks dumbly.

“I left something there last class. Can I come with you and grab it?” Jaehyun calls out, easily matching his pace.

They are nearing the bus stop and the bus had just pulled in. Taeyong mumbles a vague _Okay?_ while digging his T-money out of his wallet, too tired and confused to process the turn of events. They hastily shuffle down the bus as it drives off. The only other occupants an older woman and her dog, and a student who passes out before he even sits down.

Taeyong slides into a window seat, bag pulled against his chest, nervous fingers fidgeting with the zipper flap. He watches Jaehyun sit down beside him, but the other is not meeting his gaze.

For a long, awkward moment, neither of them say anything, so Taeyong clears his throat. “What did you forget at the studio?”

“Oh, my t-shirt,” Jaehyun admits sheepishly. “You know how I sweat. If I don't pick it up, it'll stink up the whole change room before the day is over.”

Taeyong doesn't even have to look to hear the dimples on Jaehyun's cheeks. He swallows the lump in his throat and stammers, "Good thing you remembered. Otherwise I would’ve had to douse the whole studio with Febreeze."

Jaehyun snickers. “Are you sure you don't do that already? The studio probably saved on cleaning costs when they hired you.”

“I wouldn't be surprised if that was the reason I was hired.” Taeyong snorts, suddenly annoyed. “Hansol-hyung might know how to run a dance studio, but the place was literally a mess when I started.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “Still, you're a great instructor. I got pretty excited when I found out I was invited to be a part of your advanced class.”

Taeyong subtly turns his head to hide his blush. He clears his throat. “Thanks. I mean- it's really all you guys. If you didn't prove yourselves in the past I wouldn't have pushed for an advance class.”

Jaehyun watches Taeyong quietly, a small smile teasing his lips. “You have more to do with our success than you give yourself credit for, you know?”

Taeyong meets his eyes, and for a moment, doesn't know what to say. A beat later, Jaehyun’s smile pulls into something wide and teasing. “Especially when you nag. I don't think even my own mother gives me so much grief for missing a meal, or spending more time on dance than homework-”

Taeyong bristles. “School is important-”

“-or staying out late _to dance_ -”

“-I resent that!-”

“-and I know it's just that you care and all-”

“-I do not!”

Jaehyun pauses, eyes half-lidded, grin annoying and mischievous. “Really hyung? You don't care about me?”

Taeyong's eyes widen, mouth open but no sound comes out. Then he sighs, narrows his eyes and looks away. “I'm not even gonna dignify that with a response.”

Jaehyun snickers. “You're so easy to rile up, hyung.”

Taeyong steels his unamused glare and meets Jaehyun’s twinkling eyes. “And you're a prat. Maybe I should kick you off the team after all.”

Jaehyun smirks back, unflinching. “What you should do is work on those threats. That wasn't remotely convincing.”

Taeyong huffs, too tired to come up with a response, and they lapse into another silence. Taeyong sees their reflections in the glass, and his eyes trace the line of Jaehyun’s side profile-

_It's too early for those thoughts._

Luckily the rest of the ride is filled with light banter and none of the awkward silences that makes Taeyong cringe. At one point, he shares the gimbaps that Yuta had given to him earlier, and they take turns taking sips from the now-warm coffee. Taeyong tries not to think about indirect kisses, or anything for that matter because it's bound to travel back to how close Jaehyun is and how good he smells- a musky, spiced floral scent. Why does the bus ride feel longer today?

They get off after a few more stops, and walk another five (more like ten, with the snow and ice on the ground) minutes to get to the studio.

“No other plans today?” Taeyong asks, digging for his keys.

“Well,” Jaehyun shrugs a little. “Not really. I just want to have a quiet day for once.”

The sheepish grin that follows makes the boxes in Taeyong’s bag feel a hundred times heavier. Ah shit. There’s no way he’ll give those to Jaehyun now. Taeyong forces a smile but it comes out more like a wince. “It must be difficult for you during Valentine's Day, huh?” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling out of breath. “Not even a birthday celebration?”

Jaehyun looks at him in confusion for a moment. “How?”

Taeyong backtracks.“Uh, in the last two years that you've joined the dance studio, there were as many presents that came in red and pink hearts wrapping as there were in birthday wrapping. All with your name on them. It's not hard to put the clues together.”

He inwardly praises himself for not stuttering or tripping over his words. He’d known before the outpour of presents, of course. He’d seen it on Jaehyun’s dance profile submission form on the first day, but he's not about to admit that out loud.

“Ah.” Jaehyun blushes and looks down, hands clasping on his lap. “Yeah, I don't have anything planned for my birthday either. Sorry about the presents that show up at the studio, I didn't know it would happen-”

Taeyong waves it off. “I didn't mean it that way. It’s just hard to miss that your birthday is also Valentine's Day.”

Jaehyun smiles sheepishly. "Yeah, I suppose.”

They talk briefly about school work and midterms. Jaehyun has one left, and Taeyong is dreading his last two. Then they lapse into silence, the only sound are their footsteps on freshly fallen snow.

Normally, Taeyong would've rattled his brain to think of things to say, but he was too tired, and the silence is becoming comfortable.

As they near the dance studio, Jaehyun speaks up. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

Taeyong can feel Jaehyun's gaze on him. He quickly punches the password into the keypad and it beeps once before unlocking. “Nothing- well, Yuta might come over to my place later.”

He props open the door for Jaehyun to shuffle in, and turns on the lights. “Oh, that's nice.”

“I guess? I can do with better company, but beggars can't be choosers.” Taeyong jokes. He sets his bag down, and doesn't realize Jaehyun is still standing by the doorway, giving him a funny look.

“What's up?” Taeyong raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Nothing.” Jaehyun averts his eyes. He quickly shuffles into the change rooms in the back while Taeyong flicks on the lights to help the search.

“Hm?” Taeyong says with a disbelieving tilt to his tone. He circles behind Jaehyun to deposit his bag into his locker, and starts to take off his sweater.

“Not that I’m in any position to judge, but I thought that being in a relationship is already a choice,” Jaehyun says, tone much too serious for what they're talking about.

Taeyong’s eyes widen. “You’ve got the wrong impression. Yuta and I aren't dating.”

Jaehyun tilts his head, like he doesn't know what to believe, which Taeyong finds equally cute and frustrating. This isn’t the first time either Taeyong or Yuta, together and individually, have had to clarify about this.

“It's really not that. We’re just good friends. He likes someone else,” Taeyong says, eyes intense and at the same time internally apologizing for throwing Yuta under the bus.

Jaehyun looks surprised and physically takes two steps back. “O-okay. I get it. Not in a relationship.”

Taeyong looks away and clears his throat awkwardly. This lack of sleep is really messing with his emotions. He doesn't get riled up that easily.

“Anyway, I'm gonna freshen up now. Are you just grabbing the t-shirt for now and come back later for class?” Taeyong says as he pulls out the towel and change of clothes but really, what’s the point? Jaehyun already caught him looking at his worst.

“Hyung, I didn't mean to make that assumption about you and Yuta. I’m sorry,” Jaehyun says quietly from the doorway of the change rooms.

Taeyong waves it off. “Not the first, won't be the last. Don’t worry about it.”

A pause. Jaehyun chews on his lips and measures his next words. “Okay. If you don't mind, can I practice for a bit?”

Taeyong swallows the lump in his throat and nods nonchalantly. He knows, without Jaehyun saying outright, that Jaehyun’s at the dance studio to avoid the outpour of presents. Taeyong ignores the rise of jealousy in his stomach. “Break our equipment and I'll have your ass.”

Jaehyun snorts. “Because you don't have one?”

Taeyong narrows his eyes in warning. “I can kick you out.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “In that case, I'll be staying here to practice until you kick me out.”

Taeyong grumbles, making his way to the shower stall. “Practice away, birthday boy.”

 

Taeyong comes out from the shower feeling more like a human and not like the wreck of a zombie that roars rampant within. God he's tired.

Hansol enters through the main doors just as he steps out of the shower.

“You're early,” Hansol says with a note of surprise.

Taeyong hums in response, giving the coffee machine a long look of consideration.

Hansol chuckles. “Long night? Crash on the couch for a bit, you don't have any classes until early afternoon anyway.”

It’s a compelling argument. Taeyong shuffles, at snail pace, to the staff room. “Wake me up in two hours?”

Hansol nods. “I'll give you three. If it gets loud, you can sleep in my car.”

Just then, Jaehyun peeks out from the practice room. “Hey,” he greets the two.

Hansol stares at Jaehyun, then at Taeyong. “Did you guys stay the night?”

Taeyong freezes while Jaehyun shakes his head. “We bumped into each other on campus this morning. Taeyong-hyung said he was coming here, so I invited myself along,” He explains, rubbing the back of his neck and wearing a disarming smile.

Hansol turns to look at Taeyong, who tries to look as innocent as he can. “He’s hiding from fangirls and boys.”

Jaehyun flusters. “Hyung! It’s not like that.”

But Hansol’s already nodding with an air of understanding and sympathy. “It’s cool, I get it. Taeyong used to-” Taeyong clears his throat loudly, and Hansol snorts. “Anyway. Mind if I help myself to some of your chocolates?”

Jaehyun looks between the two in question, but when Hansol asks about the chocolates, he gets a calculative look in his eyes. “Only if I get access to the dance studio during off hours."

Hansol snorts and waves his hand around in a vague gesture. “Don’t you already? The small studio is yours until noon.”

Jaehyun cheers loudly. “Thanks!” He shouts before ducking into the studio room again. Loud music blares from the speakers a moment later, and Taeyong turns to catch Hansol looking at him.

“You’re spoiling him,” he says, looking away.

“No more than you.” Hansol flicks Taeyong’s forehead, wearing a playful smile.

Taeyong saw it coming, but couldn’t move fast enough, and flinches from the hit. Hansol has strong fingers. “Stop making those implications. We’re not like that.”

Hansol gives Taeyong a doubtful look and ignores his comment. “You should’ve been able to dodge that. Go get some rest before you collapse.” Taeyong is about to retort when Hansol pins him with a look that brooks no argument. Then his eyes light up and he grins sneakily. “Better yet, get some rest or I’ll tell Jaehyun about the chocolates.”

Taeyong stills, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “Damnit Yuta.”

Hansol smirks. “Don’t blame the messenger. Can’t say I didn’t see this coming. Good for you. Also, if you want some time and private space, I’d suggest-”

Taeyong slams the door hanging the _Employees Only_ sign on Hansol’s face, and a muffled shout comes through the door. “See you in three hours, asshat.”

“Love you too, princess,” Hansol shouts back, snickering.

Taeyong doesn’t reply after that, so Hansol sets a timer for three hours, brings his phone with him to the bigger studio, and starts his warm up.

He may be the owner of the dance studio, but he was first and foremost a dancer. He can’t lose his touch.

•••

The day comes and goes as per usual.

Taeyong’s advance hip hop class, the one with Jaehyun, is the second of four classes he teaches that day. He manages to keep his heart still, his head straight which already deserves a hard pat on the back. They go through a set of challenging footwork paired with ever-changing arms that extend fully, to the old school Let Me Clear My Throat by DJ Kool.

After that, he hurries into his beginner dancehall class, where most of his students are under the age of 18, and all of them loosey-goosey noodles from the head down. They twist, wiggle, turn and do it all over again for an hour, leaving Taeyong more breathless and pumped than anything else. At the end, the younger ones jump to reach his high high-fives, then skip into the waiting arms of their parents.

At 6:30 pm, Taeyong gets a half hour break, where he flops onto the employee couch after kicking Jisung’s smelly feet off and sending him home. The towel around his shoulders catches his sweat as he chugs down the protein shake, his eyes trained on his phone. He’s not doing anything special, just scrolling through Instagram out of habit, looking for new inspiration.

He ignores the growing pile of chocolates and presents at the corner of the room with moderate success.

At 7 pm, Taeyong is back on his feet, a curved line of control and elegance in front of the mirrors, teaching his intermediate contemporary dance class an emotional piece. When they’re nearing the end, most of his students are able to pick up the choreography. So he pushes for one more round before winding down with stretches.

“Do your best to not look down!” Taeyong shouts over the music. “Remember, this song is all about confidence even when you get lost. You might be scared or confused, but you know, from the bottom of your heart, that you’ll be fine. Pay close attention to your breaths and 5, 6, 7, 8.”

They begin for the last time. Moving as one, up, then over a set of swooping arms, strong footwork, and bowing torsos. Power and grace spell through the lines of their postures, deliberate but with a gentle flow of energy. Measured breaths. Taeyong watches the mirror between his movements until it winds down to the final twist.

The final ending position leaves them on the floor, on worn knees and arched back, a left hand above heart, right hand reaching out.

A beat.

The spell breaks, and an echo of groans fills the room. Taeyong smiles inwardly. He jogs to the music player and puts on a slow song.

“Alright guys, stay on your feet for five more minutes! Let’s stretch it out,” He says, pushing his students one last time before the night is over. They go through a set of big stretches, targeting all muscle groups before class ends, and everyone goes back to their lives again. Not everyone who dances is a professional dancer, after all.

The oldest in his class, a 40 year old accountant, smiles widely and claps his back with a strong hand.

“Thank you for class today!” She exclaims with a bright twinkle in her eyes.

It’s understood and proven for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years: dance is therapeutic.

Taeyong grins back and waves. “See you next week!”

It’s 8:30 pm now.

Taeyong groans and slumps onto Yuta’s side, who is sitting on the desk and at perfect length to cradle Taeyong with one arm around his waist, the other hand typing on his phone. They’re just behind the receptionist area, where a diligently working Hansol is using his hard-earned accounting degree to crunch some numbers.

“Get your ass off the table, Yu,” Hansol chides.

Yuta ignores him. “You didn’t give it to him, did you?” He asks without preamble.

“Don’t start,” warns Taeyong, peeling one tired eye open to glare at his best friend.

Yuta chuckles and tucks his phone away. “Go take a shower. I just ordered some food that Hansol will pay for. He’ll be joining us, by the way.”

Taeyong raises an eyebrow, about to make a comment at Yuta’s tone of false nonchalance and poorly concealed blush. One glance from Yuta tells him that no, maybe now is not the time. Hansol is on the other side of the door and can probably hear their conversation.

“Stop betting on my nonexistent love life, assholes,” Taeyong says instead.

“It's not nonexistent. And correction: we weren’t betting on your love life, we were betting on your pathetic advances.” Yuta smirks.

Taeyong flips him the bird and drags himself down the hallway to the change rooms in the back. That’s when he sees it. Jaehyun is in the small practice room, doing what seems like his own choreo, because Taeyong doesn’t recognize it.

He leans by the door and watches.

Sometimes, it’s hard to believe the Jaehyun in public and the Jaehyun performing on stage are the same person.

In an everyday situation, Jaehyun is kind, soft-spoken and patient, if not a little bratty. He’s well put together and has a dimpled smile that is charming and infectious. In a performance, however, Jaehyun makes the kinds of expressions that Korean mothers would warn their sweet daughters to stay far, far away from. There’s a magnetism that’s palpable in the air, like he’s controlling every breath you take.

But there’s one expression that Taeyong secretly likes more than any other. It’s when Jaehyun practices. Jaehyun always goes full during practice, giving his all, all the time. There are puddles of sweat to show for it. And his expression is one of deep concentration. No smiles. No keeping appearances. His eyes are sharp and calculative, analyzing and adjusting his muscles to create the strongest movements appropriate of the choreography.

It’s no easy feat. All professional dancers face the same challenge.

And it’s in the intense practice hours where Jaehyun is completely in the zone that Taeyong gets to see it.

The music comes to an end.

Jaehyun lets out a loud sigh, shaking his arms and legs and hopping a few times. Then he glances over to the door where Taeyong is, and grins brightly. Taeyong responds with a small smile.

“You’re still here.”

Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was practicing.”

Taeyong recognizes the look in his eyes. “Can't run away from the admirers forever,” he comments lightly, ignoring the twist in his stomach.

Jaehyun scrunches his nose and flashes a half-hearted smile. “I suppose not. I'll clear the room of chocolates, don't worry.”

Taeyong shrugs. “Just work something out with Hansol. Knowing him, he's probably already made a dent in your pile.”

Jaehyun laughs. “That sounds like him.”

Taeyong also smiles. “I'm gonna go shower. Catch ya later.”

Jaehyun takes a step towards Taeyong, looking like he has something else to add, but shakes his head instead and says, “Okay.”

Taeyong tilts his head. Jaehyun’s probably tired from a whole day of practicing. He nods at Jaehyun once and makes a beeline for the shower.

A warm shower after a long day of dance is a treat of its own.

In the middle, he hears someone starting up a shower beside him and jumps. _It's probably Jaehyun._ Forcing his thoughts away from that particular imagery, Taeyong finishes up and gets dressed quickly. If he sees Jaehyun in the locker room, he’ll probably melt into a blushing, stuttering puddle, which is embarrassing and something he _does not_ need.

Only he’s not very successful. He’s folding and packing his dancing clothes away when the shower turns off, and a minute later someone walks out.

Taeyong takes one glance to confirm- Y _ep, that’s Jaehyun with a towel around his waist-_ and stares holes into the floor.  _Fantastic._

Taeyong hastily packs the rest of his clothes and towels into his duffle bag, intending to escape as quickly as possible when Jaehyun starts, “Heading over to Yuta’s now?”

Wincing, he inclines his head slightly. “Ah, yeah. I think we’re picking up some food before heading back.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun's voice is muffled through the thick fabrics of his knitted sweater. “I'll be done soon.”

After counting to twenty, Taeyong deems it safe to look, and sneaks a peek at Jaehyun, who is indeed dressed and shoving his sweaty dance clothes into his pack. When he straightens, his damp hair pokes out in several places, and Taeyong’s heart skips a beat at the sight.

“I didn't know you'd be joining us,” Taeyong comments, trying to sound unaffected.

Jaehyun rubs the towel through his hair roughly. “Oh, Yuta invited me along just now. I know it’s your place though. So if it's intrusive I can-”

“No- I didn't mean it that way.” Taeyong shakes his head. “You said you wanted to have a quiet Valentine’s Day. I assumed you'd want to spend it away from, well, people.”

When Taeyong finishes his sentence, he meets Jaehyun’s questioning gaze and frowns.

“What's up?”

“You don’t mind that I join you guys, right?” Jaehyun asks.

“Not at all,” Taeyong replies earnestly. “Just don’t join them in teasing me.”

Jaehyun laughs, but instead of the hearty laugh Taeyong expects, it comes out a little breathy. Taeyong then notices a slight pink tinge across Jaehyun’s cheeks and ears, and blinks.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed,” he says.

Jaehyun’s eyes widen and he looks away quickly. “I’m okay.”

Taeyong frowns and narrows his eyes. “You look like you pushed yourself too hard. We might have something in the med-kit. I can get it for you.” Without waiting for an answer, Taeyong takes quick strides towards the door, only to be stopped by Jaehyun’s hand on his forearm. He looks back to see Jaehyun’s wide eyes. It's kind of funny, how alarmed he looks.

“Hyung, I’ll be fine. I’m probably just flushed from the shower,” Jaehyun says.

Taeyong frowns disbelievingly. “Are you sure?”

The flush deepens, and Taeyong squints even more. Huh.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, just give me a moment to calm-I mean, cool down.”

Taeyong almost reaches up to press the back of his hand against Jaehyun’s forehead, but they’re not close enough for that kind of physical contact. For all he knows, Jaehyun sees him as a dance instructor and a maybe-friend. They don’t even talk much outside of class. His hands twitch by his sides.

“If you say so,” he says doubtfully. “Let’s grab our stuff and go, then.”

Jaehyun nods with a sigh of relief and lets go, and Taeyong blinks from the loss of contact.

Yuta is smirking at Taeyong when they emerge from the hallway. Taeyong shoots him a look of warning before rounding to the back to get his water bottle.

“Sol, we’re heading out now!” Yuta shouts to the front desk.

Hansol makes a vague grunt in reply, and soon, they're locking up and heading back into the dreadful cold.

“Shotgun!” Yuta screams, bouncing to the front of the car. Hansol rolls his eyes.

“How do you have so much energy? Isn't it exam season?” He yells over the howling wind.

“I'm always energetic. You should know this,” Yuta taunts back, sticking his tongue out.

Hansol’s large hand grabs for the back of Yuta's collar, and they play fight for all of two minutes while Taeyong and Jaehyun wait for Hansol to unlock the car.

“It may be faster to walk,” Jaehyun notes, bemused.

“Or maybe they need to grow the fuck up,” Taeyong says with an impatient sigh. He steps between his two best friends, palms pushing at their faces until they finally decide to settle this later.

“If you trash my place you're paying for the damages,” Taeyong warns from the backseat.

Yuta ignores him and starts scrolling through his phone. Hansol hums nonchalantly. “We're not 3, mom.”

Taeyong's eyes burn with fire and he reaches up to lock Hansol in a chokehold, but Jaehyun’s hand on his arm stops him the second time that day.

“Let's wait until we arrive at your place, hyung.” His smile has a hint of a wince.

Right. They're in a car that Hansol is driving.

“Buckle up!” Yuta calls out excitedly. “Remember, safety first, so always wear a cond-”

“Seat belt,” Hansol drawls, unamused, like he’s done this a million times before.

“Yuta,” Taeyong growls in warning.

Still, four clicks and muffled laughter can be heard. Taeyong mumbles for Jaehyun to stop encouraging Yuta’s antics, and is met with curved eyes that make him lose all steam to scold Jaehyun.

"Where’s dinner?” Taeyong asks.

“Indian,” replies Hansol. He peers through the rear mirror at Jaehyun for the next question. “That's okay with you, right?”

“More than okay,” Jaehyun affirms.

They go to the restaurant to pick up their food and, in another twenty minutes, tumble their way into Taeyong’s apartment.

“Where’s Johnny?” Yuta asks, tugging off his UGG boots. Taeyong wrinkles his nose in distaste.

“Ten?” Hansol supplies, settling the food on the short coffee table in the living area. Jaehyun helps Taeyong unpack the food and Hansol gets the cutlery.

Taeyong nods with a halfhearted shrug, passing the plates around. “It’s Valentine's Day. He probably went all out.”

“That romantic piece of shit.” Yuta grins widely, then nods at Taeyong and Hansol. “You guys should take note.”

Hansol snorts, shaking his head. “I don’t have time for romance.”

Taeyong hums in agreement, which aggravates Yuta further.

Yuta shoves his hand in front of Taeyong, preventing him from scooping the lamb rogan josh onto his plate. “Valentine’s Day is all about making the time! The romantic gestures, the planned events, the gratitude and gifts and chocolates-”

Taeyong shoves Yuta’s hands away. “In what world?”

When Yuta turns to Hansol, Hansol quickly collects Yuta’s hand in one of his before he has a chance to block his plate. With his other hand, Hansol tears a huge piece of naan for himself and places the rest on Yuta’s plate. “Here's your romantic gesture.”

Frustrated beyond words, Yuta shoots a pleading look at Jaehyun, hoping he'll side with him. Hansol and Taeyong also turn their heads to the newest addition of their group like saying, _Go ahead, we’re waiting._

Jaehyun flushes at the attention. He eyes at Taeyong for a moment, then at the other two before rounding to his clasped hands in his lap. “In my opinion, Valentine's Day is too commercialized. Not everyone likes the big romantic things.” He says quietly. Yuta groans like he's lost all hope, but Jaehyun continues, “But I do like the idea that there’s a day to celebrate the love between people. Love makes the world go around after all, or so the saying goes.”

Jaehyun’s gaze flickers over at Taeyong briefly, before turning back to his hands. Taeyong would've seen it, but he's too busy staring at the butter chicken on his plate. Hansol and Yuta caught it, however, and they smile to themselves.

“I'll take that answer.” Yuta says, wearing a victorious smile. Hansol chuckles to himself, then shovels more food into his mouth. It's only then that Taeyong looks up, feeling like he missed something. He directs his questioning gaze at Hansol, but the other shakes his head with a small smile. Yuta is no help, he's already moved onto another topic.

“Jaehyun, do you drink alcohol?”

Jaehyun blinks in surprise, but nods nonetheless. “Yeah. I haven’t had much time recently, but I enjoy drinking.”

Yuta scoots closer. “What do you normally drink?”

Jaehyun considers the question with a low hum. “Lately, I’ve been really into a good old fashioned. But I’m always down for red wine and soju.”

Yuta gasps and, before Taeyong can hold him back, darts out of his seat and dives into the fridge. Taeyong’s fingers twitch in mid-air. Unsuccessful, he sighs and resigns to an evening of drinking. Hansol shakes his head and goes back to inhaling the food. Jaehyun quirks his head curiously.

The fridge door closes and Yuta comes back with an armful of soju bottles- cheap, vile, and effective.

“You’re going to get in trouble for drinking Johnny’s stash.” Taeyong warns.

Yuta hums nonchalantly. “Relax, I didn’t even touch his Spanish wine yet. I can easily replace these.” As Yuta says this, he lines the bottles up in front of him, a good three bottles that makes Taeyong’s eyebrows rise in surprise. Even Hansol pauses his eating to make a low sound of surprise.

“They’ll get warm if you take them all out like this,” says Hansol.

“I have a feeling Jaehyun is a very capable drinker, right?” Yuta quirks an eyebrow at Jaehyun, who chuckles sheepishly.

“I don’t make a habit out of it, but yeah, I guess.”

“Between you and Hansol, three bottles is just a warm up,” Yuta smirks, pouring out 4 shots, three full, one at half. Then he pours two more shots.

“What's with the extra two?” Hansol puts down his now empty plate.

“You and Jaehyun, to make it even,” Yuta explains.

“Who is the half for?” Asks Jaehyun curiously.

“Me.” Taeyong deadpans, narrowing his eyes at Yuta, whose innocent gaze fools no one.

Jaehyun looks between Yuta’s and Taeyong’s death glares and clears his throat awkwardly. “I didn't know you had a low alcohol tolerance.”

Hansol breaks the tension by lifting a shot glass to the air, and everyone jumps to action.

“To health!” He shouts.

“And happiness!” Yuta pipes in.

There is a short pause, then everyone turns to Taeyong who blinks incredulously. “Are we really- okay. And being alive- er, birthdays!” He adds.

“And love,” Jaehyun concludes, and they down the shot. Then he and Hansol dutifully reach for their second shots and down those as well. They're too young to reject a free drink.

Yuta fills their glass again.

“No more drink speeches, please,” Taeyong complains. His cheeks are already turning pink. He doesn't want to get drunk, and even less so in front of the person he likes. Just the idea of being less inhibited makes him feel uneasy, Yuta always makes fun of him for being too touchy and cutesy when he’s drunk.

“Are we playing games? I don't like drinking games,” Hansol interjects. Taeyong nods in agreement.

“I’m thinking a movie. Drink every time someone flashes a frat sign in Stomp the Yard.”

Hansol perks up. “Ooh, a classic.”

“Way to change your mind in a second,” calls Taeyong, feeling betrayed.

“I like that movie too,” Jaehyun says suddenly. “It's practically a right of passage to be a professional dancer.”

Hansol smirks. “My, I didn't know you considered yourself a pro,” he teases.

“Or you realize that if you acknowledge it you'd have one less student paying you, and one more instructor you need to pay,” Jaehyun shoots back easily, earning muffled laughter from Yuta and Taeyong.

“Damn right,” Hansol says without hesitation. His smirk has grown to a wide shit-eating grin, and he takes his two shots and downs one after another. Jaehyun matches him. “Managing a dancing studio isn't easy, or cheap.”

Yuta, having heard enough of their banter, clears his throat loudly while setting up his phone, then starts the stream. “As I was saying. One drink per frat sign. Any additions?”

Hansol raises his hand. “One drink for every time Williams smiles. None of the small, forced bullshit. A good, old hearty smile.”

Taeyong snorts at Hansol’s unexpected dramatics. “For happiness?” He asks dryly.

Hansol nods and says very seriously, “For happiness.”

Yuta laughs and accepts the suggestion. “Last calls!”

“When they kiss, then!” Jaehyun shouts out. Two pairs of eyes move to look at him, and Taeyong trains his gaze to a spot on the wall, willing himself not to blush. “For love,” Jaehyun adds with a crooked smile.

Taeyong knew the movie so well that he knows he won’t last the first half hour. “Just because it’s Friday tomorrow doesn’t mean we should be drinking irresponsibly,” he says reproachfully, knowing it’ll fall on deaf ears.

“Do you have any deadlines for tomorrow, or soon?” Jaehyun asks, eyes line with concern despite his earlier excitement.

Taeyong’s heart hammers in his chest. “No, but it’s still a weekday. The studio opens at 2 pm tomorrow.”

Hansol waves a hand around. “Don’t worry, I can call someone in to cover for you.”

Jaehyun sticks his hand up. “I can do it.”

Yuta shoots Jaehyun a look of mild disbelief. “But you’re drinking with us. Just how high is your tolerance?”

Hansol rolls his eyes. “Let’s just see where the night goes. Start the movie, Yu!”

Taeyong has a bad feeling. He knows where the night will go. Frat signs run rampant in the first half an hour minutes of Stomp the Yard, it’s a solid twelve shots right there. His limit is three, maybe four if he paces himself. Yuta that son of a bitch.

They make the appropriate comments when Chris Brown’s poor acting comes on. Later still, when Williams gets caught in the stepping competition, Taeyong groans as Yuta readies the second soju bottle. “Ready?”

Taeyong lasts four and a half shots.

He thanks all kinds of common sense that got him to eat the rice and curry beforehand, or the alcohol would hit him much quicker, and the hangover that follows would be nothing short of a disaster. Still, he’s swaying on his feet at the 30 minute mark, calling for a break as he moves the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Yuta pauses the movie while Jaehyun helps Taeyong clean.

“Say, Jaehyun, did you bring any of the chocolates from the studio back?” Yuta says out of the blue.

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “Ah shit, I forgot.”

Taeyong has a bad feeling, especially if the twinkle in Yuta’s lazy eyes are anything to go by.

“Taeyongie, since you have a box of chocolates, why don’t you share it?”

A flash of anger shoots down Taeyong’s spine, rooting him to a spot as he thinks about the swiftest way to kill his friend without leaving a trace. The few seconds of tense silence feels like hours, but Taeyong eventually finds his voice and says, “Didn’t know you liked seconds, Yu.”

It’s a pathetic comeback, but his mind is a buzzed mess and Jaehyun is in the room. Not that he’d know what was going on-

“Did something happen?” Jaehyun asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Nope, don’t worry about it.” Taeyong spares Jaehyun a small smile, then goes back to glaring daggers at Yuta.

“I _love_ seconds. Plus, you owe me from the triangle gimbap.” Yuta smirks. “C’mon, the day’s ending, let’s just celebrate the last hour with some chocolates.”

Taeyong is far too tired (and tipsy) to come up with legitimate comeback, so he begrudgingly goes into his pack and brings out the pack of chocolates. He's about to go back to the living area when Jaehyun catches his sleeve in a gentle grasp.

“I can just bring my stash of chocolates from the studio tomorrow,” Jaehyun offers, voice low and soft.

Taeyong shrugs. “It’s fine, it’s just a box of chocolates,” he says casually, avoiding Jaehyun’s eyes.

“Are you sure? It seems important to you,” says Jaehyun.

Taeyong sighs. “Honestly, I don’t want to think too hard about this. Let’s go.”

It’s not a bad alternative in retrospect, Taeyong thinks as he watches Yuta and Hansol pop in three or four of them in a row. Jaehyun, on the other hand, exercises his manners after 11 or 12 shots and eats each chocolate slowly, taking his time to enjoy each one.

 _At least the intended for is also eating them,_ Taeyong thinks with low sigh.

The movie plays behind their low chatter, the drinking game long forgotten. Taeyong thinks he sees Hansol’s eyelids slowly drooping lower and lower.

“Not one for sweet things?” Jaehyun asks, noticing that Taeyong hasn't touched a single chocolate.

“I am,” Taeyong replies with a wry smile. “I’m not really in the mood for chocolates though.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrow together. “Allergy?”

“Less of an allergy, more of a fear,” Yuta mutters quietly.

Taeyong and Jaehyun look over to see Hansol sprawled on the couch, resting his head on Yuta’s lap, mumbling under his breath and looking like he’ll wake up with a bad crick in his neck.

“I'm gonna throw us on Johnny’s bed. Don't stay up too late.” Yuta gathers Hansol’s loose limbs and slowly shuffles them into one room- presumably Johnny’s.

A silence falls on them.

Weary seeps into Taeyong's bones and he sprawls bonelessly on the couch, leaving Jaehyun to take the loveseat. Taeyong's head is pounding now, and he pulls his arm up to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the harsh fluorescent light.

Jaehyun clears his throat quietly. “Can I ask you a question?”

Taeyong hums tiredly.

“Hansol-hyung told me you used to get a lot of chocolates on Valentine’s Day too, to the point where most available surfaces in the employee room would be covered in stacks of them.” Jaehyun scratches the back of his neck, looking down. “But it stopped, and he never said why.”

Taeyong’s brows furrow before he sighs. “It’s not really a big deal. I don’t know why he doesn’t just tell you,” he mutters under his breath.

_Guess it's story time._

“I never knew what to do with the chocolates. I like sweets, but can only eat so much. So I started giving them to my friends and students at the studio. Eventually the word spread, and I was shamed for giving them away.” Taeyong speaks to the ceiling, feeling his energy leave him by his words. “So one Valentine’s Day, I made a show of breaking the boxes and throwing them out. I got a bit carried away, but the message was clear. I haven't gotten chocolates since.”

Taeyong can hear Jaehyun’s soft breathing beside him  but he doesn't dare to move his arm and look. Jaehyun probably thinks that he's a rude, heartless asshole, just like everyone else. Sure, his admirers would’ve understood if he just explained nicely, but he isn’t one for nicety, and he doesn’t have the patience to explain to everyone.

It's fine. It’s not far from the truth. As per Yuta’s words, he has a ways to go before claiming that he's personable, much less a romantic.

(He’s also vaguely aware that he’s blowing this way out of proportion, mostly because he’s drunk and his emotions are kind of spilling out uncontrolled.)

“Anyway, I know you’re tired. You can take my bed so you don't have to travel,” says Taeyong, tone flat. Apathy had always been an easy way out. “There's mouthwash and floss in the bathroom. I'll get you cab if you want to go home-”

“Hyung, wait.” Jaehyun’s interruption catches Taeyong's breath in the air, leaving him to experience a new sense of breathlessness.

But inside, his heart is wreaking havoc going a mile a minute from being vulnerable, for being _that_ person to spill their guts out when they drink. He didn’t plan for this, any of this… He needs to stop talking.

Jaehyun licks his lips, and Taeyong prepares himself for the worst.

“It's not wrong to react that way, at least I don’t think so. I wasn't going to judge you, and I definitely don't think that's all you are.” Jaehyun pauses, letting the weight of his words sink. “Sorry if my question made you uncomfortable.”

Taeyong immediately shakes his head, then hisses when the room starts to spin. _Fuck, definitely drank too much._

He sucks in a breath, exhales, and then another. And when the room stills again, he sighs in exhaustion. “It didn’t. My brain just likes to be melodramatic when I drink, please ignore this,” He mumbles, squeezing his eyes tightly.

Jaehyun smiles wryly. “That wasn’t really melodramatic. If you didn’t have that dizzy spell just now, I wouldn’t have thought you drunk and incoherent.”

Taeyong snorts. “Please. Anyone can tell that my brain is practically non-functional-able right now. **Non-functional.** Fuck.”

Jaehyun actually chuckles this time. “Again, if not for the slip-up...”

Taeyong huffs and blindly reaches for the couch cushion by his knees. When his fingers feel the familiar fabric, he tucks the cushion into his arms. For comfort. “I hate it when you tease me at my expense.”

“Who else can I tease?” Comes the soft reply.

The silence that follows is deafening.

As is the heartbeat in Taeyong’s ears. _Excuse-_

“Excuse me?” Taeyong sputters, quickly sitting up and just as quickly regretting his decision. “Aw fuck-”

All humorous pretence is gone and Jaehyun sits up too. “Do you need to use the toilet? I can carry you over,” he offers, worry laced in his words.

Taeyong clears his throat, willing the dizziness away, but it’s persistent. “Just,” he catches his breath. There’s too much going on, too much to think about. “Give me a moment. To chill. I’ll be okay.”

A minute passes.

“I swear to god if I wasn’t drunk I’d beat you up right now,” Taeyong threatens, albeit without much weight seeing as he could hardly stand.

Jaehyun doesn’t bother pointing it out. Instead, he snorts and slides back into the comfortable hug of the loveseat. “Hyung, you need to take better care of yourself.”

Taeyong would roll his eyes if they weren't sealed shut, and he tells Jaehyun as much, adding: “I take plenty good care of myself, thank you very much. This happens once in a blue moon.”

“Blue moon, huh?” Comes Jaehyun’s soft response.

“Mhm.” Taeyong nods with complete, inebriated confidence.

Jaehyun makes another soft sound in the back of his throat, and Taeyong shudders involuntarily. It’s not like he finds Jaehyun’s voice attractive or anything!… it... it’s the drinking. He’s losing body heat! Right. So of course he’d shudder…

“On that note, hyung…” Jaehyun starts, voice low and wavering slightly.

Taeyong steadies his breathing, trying to not sound as breathless as he feels. “Yeah?”

“Who were the chocolates for?”

A beat.

“Hyung?”

“I heard you.”

“Oh.”

Another beat.

“Sorry, forget I asked. I didn’t mean to overstep-”

“It’s fine. I just… can’t tell you.”

“I… okay. Um. I should go, now, I think. Yeah, I should go. Sorry.”

Taeyong knows he should stop Jaehyun. He should explain himself, be out with it. He’s had two whole years to figure it out. He should- but. It’s a lost battle, the corners of his mind blanks into a darkness washed with stars, and he knows no more.

•••

Taeyong comes to with a mild headache and all of the memories rushing back in one anxious breath-

His eyes snap wide open.

Ow.

Fuck. _Fuckfuckfuck-_

He lets out a long groan, mentally cursing at himself for drinking way too much in spite of his shitty alcohol tolerance. Whelp. That’s one for lessons learned, and zero for Taeyong.

It takes another five minutes or so, but Taeyong finally sits up, and the first thing he sees is a glass with two painkillers lain on the side. He has half a heart to text a thank you to Yuta, but his memory (or is it his imagination?) is feeding him a different story.

He pushes the images down, takes the two capsules with water, and melts into a puddle on the couch again.

At least he didn’t throw up on Jaehyun, so there’s that.

With that as his only consolation, Taeyong cuddles tightly against the cushion and tries to go back to sleep. He knows there’s only one course of action, and it’s not one he’s very eager to take. Sleep is more important anyway. Everything else can wait.

•••

“Talk to him, you fucking idiot,” Yuta says without preamble. Again. This piece of shit.

“I need encouragements, not insults. Seriously, why are we friends?” Taeyong growls back, clutching onto his head while he mentally reviews the one choreo he has to teach today. He’s still nursing a migraine, but he’s feeling much better than this morning.

“You need to talk to him. Stop being such a baby and go. Like, now.”

“I just got to work- hell. I still have a class. I’ll go after,” Taeyong protests, but Yuta already has his winter jacket in one hand, and Taeyong’s arm firmly in the other. Where does this vise-like grip come from??

“There is no after. Go now. I’ll get Hansol to cover for you-” Yuta says hastily, dragging Taeyong out of the door.

“Says WHO?” Comes a loud shout from the back.

“Go!”

And with that, once again, Taeyong finds himself outside of the closing doors, except this time it’s not a convenience store, but his own dance studio.

Damnit, Yuta.

Where the hell does he even go-

His phone vibrates once, and when Taeyong checks, it’s an address, and a side-eyed emoji following it.

This crafty piece of shit.

 **Yu-chan  
** before you ask, it’s from the student profile  
yes it's breach of privacy  
make it worth my time behind bars  
<kiss-wink-emoji>

Taeyong huffs and puts the address into the map, drawing a crooked line from him to where Jaehyun might be. The location pin drops onto the apartments by the Humanities Building.

It’s 4 pm. Would Jaehyun really be at home?

Throwing caution to the wind, Taeyong looks for the fastest route on his phone, and hops on the bus that heads to the campus (the same bus he and Jaehyun took to get to the studio a day ago).

The feeling that twists his insides intensifies as the bus nears the campus. At a certain point, Taeyong memorizes the stop and puts his phone away. No use freaking out now.

Soon, familiar campus buildings appear left and right, and sooner still, Taeyong gets to his stop. He almost jumps from his eat, his body is charged with all this energy and he doesn't know what to do with it.

•••

It's been half an hour and Taeyong can say with a degree of certainty, and (at) a degree of minus fifteen, that he no longer feels his toes.

He buzzed the apartment number to no response. There is no concierge in sight, and (surprisingly) no one entering and exiting from the building. Is it completely vacant? Not, Taeyong sighs, that he would enter the building uninvited, he doesn’t want to be that sketchy person.

He should've texted, should've at least asked Jaehyun whether he would be home instead of going unannounced like he did. Now he’ll probably have to say goodbye to his toes and dancing career, thanks to the stupid frostbite.

Sighing dejectedly, he gives his phone another check, and has half a heart to text Jaehyun. But what could he possibly say? _Hey, I’ve been waiting at your apartment for half an hour, where are you?_

...and risk sounding like a total creep? Probably not. He sticks his hands back into his pockets and turns heels, almost falling over. His ankles are not enjoying this weather. He'll warm up on with some coffee, then come up with another plan.

Distracted, Taeyong side steps a lump of black ice and almost bumps into oncoming foot traffic. He mutters an apology without lifting his eyes and continues his way.

He gets to the steps leading up to his campus, and takes careful steps up. _What should I do?_

He doesn’t see the figure pausing at the top until he almost gets there. Banking left on the stairs is almost an unwritten courtesy. What the hell?

He looks up, ready to pin the person with a glare, that is until he sees who it is.

Well, then.

“Hey,” Taeyong says first, flashing a hesitant smile.

Jaehyun nods, wearing a shy smile as well. “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m okay. What about you? Actually, before that, are you free right now?” Taeyong quickly changes his mind, already thinking of the best coffee shop close to campus.

“I, um, yeah. I do. What…?”

“Coffee? Or tea, whichever you prefer,” Taeyong gestures vaguely.

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “Um. Sure, coffee is fine. There's actually-”

“-the cafe in the Geology building?” Taeyong finishes.

Jaehyun smiles softly and nods. “Yeah. Let’s?”

They turn towards the Geology building, and Jaehyun falls into step beside Taeyong. Their breaths come in soft puffs of white, cheeks reddened from the cold. Thankfully, the geology building isn’t far, and soon, they settle at a table by the corner, quiet and away from questioning gaze.

Taeyong takes a breath, readies his heart, and says:

“I’d completely forgotten to wish you a happy birthday yesterday. So, um, happy belated.”

He produces a small box and places it on the table, right between their drinks.

Jaehyun’s eyes widen.

“I actually wanted to give this to you yesterday, but I didn't know how without making it strange. I even had a box of chocolates to play it off but that would've probably made it even weirder. I know I could've cut to the chase if I just talked to you, but then you said you wanted a quiet birthday and Valentine’s...” Taeyong rambles, feeling his cheeks redden as the words tumble out of his mouth. “So, happy belated birthday, and happy belated Valentine's.”

When Taeyong looks up again, Jaehyun has blushed bright red from the tips of his ears to below the neck cuff of his grey knitted sweater.

Jaehyun glances down at the present once, then hesitantly back at Taeyong. He takes a small gulp.

“May I open it now?”

Taeyong nods, not trusting his voice.

Jaehyun collects the small box in his hands and gently wiggles the lid off.

It's a simple chain bracelet.

“Do you like it?” Taeyong asks, eyes earnest.

Jaehyun looks down again and nods, his blush deepens. “I do. I can put it on, right?”

Taeyong nods with a shy smile, squeezing the back of his neck out of habit. “I didn't think you'd be one for jewelry, but when I saw this I immediately thought of you.”

The metal is cool against his skin, the weight a comfortable reminder and not a hindrance, the style is classic and versatile. It's a perfect fit.

Jaehyun meets Taeyong’s eyes again and smiles brightly. “Thank you. I'm not sure what I did to deserve this but it's lovely. I - um. Love it. I really do. Thank you.” Jaehyun stammers. He looks up to see Taeyong’s bright, genuine smile and looks down again.

“That’s good.” Taeyong replies.

Jaehyun takes a deep breath, then forges on. “I actually had something to give you too, but I didn't know if you were... if you had been. And the timing… So, here,” Jaehyun procures a box smaller than Taeyong's.

Taeyong blinks at it, then at Jaehyun.

“It's not my birthday though?” He says slowly, with a strange quirk to the corner of his lips.

Jaehyun nods quickly. “I know. It’s not meant to be a birthday gift, I just thought that- like you, I saw it and thought that you should have it.” Jaehyun pauses, taking a deep breath. “If you’d like.”

Taeyong stares at the present, knowing what it might mean, and slowly nudges the lid open.

Inside the small package is an earring of black metal surrounding a cadmium red jewel.

“I didn’t think we’d be giving each other jewelry,” Taeyong notes with a crooked smile. He pulls the piercing out of the cushion and pushes it into his left cartilage. “How does it look?”

Jaehyun grins impishly and gives two thumbs up. “Do you like it?”

“I can’t see it, but I’m sure it looks great.” Taeyong chuckles.

Jaehyun fiddles with his phone, and flips on the front cam for Taeyong. “Here.”

The cut of the rock is asymmetrical with intent, the black metal like a haphazard cut, but smooth around the edges. Its unfinished quality lends to its fierce charm. To Jaehyun, it matches with the unflinching intensity of Taeyong’s eyes. To Taeyong… well, he’s in love.

“I love this,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

There’s a pause, when they meet eyes and no words are said.

Then Jaehyun laughs, all awkward and breathy, and Taeyong follows too.

“Man, this is awkward. I’m not sure if you should say it, or if I should.” Jaehyun sniffs, hands clasped together on his lap. Taeyong doesn’t miss the way his fingers run through the metal chain, like familiarizing with the feeling of it. He smiles.

“I know right? In any hetero situation it would be pretty obvious. Well, I just-”  
“So-

They pause, blinking at each other, then dissolve into chuckles again.

“This is stupid, and I’m getting restless. Let’s walk.”

It’s cold outside, but Taeyong prefers it over the stuffy warmth of the university buildings. They pass by a small courtyard and through the back alleyways of classrooms. Their surroundings are quiet, devoid of students milling about. The sun is starting to set.

“How long?” Taeyong asks quietly, glancing over to Jaehyun.

Jaehyun smiles softly to himself. “It’s… been a while. It was before I joined the studio. You were teaching a class and… I just watched from the crowd. You were so young, but you taught so well. The class ended and you made sure to take care of all your students.”

Taeyong blushes at the compliment. “So you joined the studio because…” he trails.

Jaehyun nods with an embarrassed grin. “I used to dance back in high school, and it made sense to continue through university. I guess you just chose my studio for me.” He chuckles shyly.

“Creep!” Taeyong laughs.

Jaehyun nudges his shoulder. “What about you?”

A whimsy smile plays at Taeyong’s lips. “Probably not long after. You danced really well, for an unfamiliar face.”

Jaehyun blushes and mutters a soft thank you, which is followed by a soft smile.

Taeyong tilts his head. “What?”

“That’s what I mean. You remember every student. How do you even do that?”

“I have good memory?”

“It’s called dedication,” Jaehyun insists.

Taeyong scrunches his nose. “Thanks I guess,” he mumbles.

“You’re terrible with compliments,” Jaehyun teases.

“Maybe stop?”

“I have even less reason to stop now…”

That’s when Taeyong’s footsteps slow to a halt, his cheeks tomato red as the words wash over him. Jaehyun stands by his side.

“Are we?”

Jaehyun holds his hand out. After a beat, Taeyong’s fingers slide in his, fingers interlocking.

“Does this answer...?” says Jaehyun sheepishly.

Taeyong’s heart swells, and a thousand butterflies take off in his stomach. Instead of replying, he pushes up, tilting his head to place a neat peck on Jaehyun’s cheek.

•••

“It’s not like you’re obligated to give him a return gift.” Sicheng mutters under his breath.

Jaehyun looks at the chocolates in his hand, then at his best friend, and gives a half-hearted shrug. He knows Taeyong isn’t much of a romantic, but he has a surprisingly big sweet tooth...

“Just ring me up,” he says with an easy grin.

Sicheng dutifully scans the box of chocolates with a slight grimace. “This is so gross.”

Jaehyun chuckles, handing over the money. “Just wait until the day you fall head over heels for someone.”

Sicheng raises a doubtful brow. “Is that what it is now? Head over heels?”

Jaehyun doesn’t respond, but his smile while biting his lip is more than enough confirmation for Sicheng, who all but throws the box of chocolates at his best friend’s face. “Stop it, you’re contaminating my work station. Get out of here. Now.”

Jaehyun laughs, catching the package in mid-air with one hand. He waltzes out of the convenience store while pocketing the package in his spring jacket pocket. “One day, Sicheng. One day.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes and leans against the counter with a bored expression. He checks his watch once- 10:03 am. Resigning himself to a long day, Sicheng stands to his feet and mill about the small convenience store. He pushes the cans of Pringles forward, rearranges the magazines on the rack and turns the soju bottles to all line up with logos facing forward.

When everything looks prim and proper, he returns to the counter and plays with the stationery there. That’s when he hears a crash in the back. Curious, he gives the back door a quick look.

It slams open in a second, and out bursts a man with ash-pink hair, balancing four boxes of condoms and two boxes of smokes in his arms. Situation notwithstanding, he’s actually pretty handsome. He’s also cursing like a sailor.

“Last fucking time I do that asshat a favour, making me carry this shit across the fucking campus-”

SIcheng stares in… mild shock.

“-Should just staple gun the fucking condoms through his fucking fingers for misplacing this shipment-” The man pauses, finally noticing Sicheng, who is leaning on one arm, looking shocked beyond words. The pencil he was twirling has dropped from his fingers to the table, to roll off the table onto the ground in a loud clatter.

The man narrows his eyes. “Who are you?”

Sicheng comes to, clearing his throat and slowly standing to his feet to give a half-hearted bow. “Sicheng. I start working today.”

The man makes a dramatic sound of exasperation. “Well what the fuck are you doing sitting there looking all pretty and shit. I need help.”

Sicheng narrows his eyes. “And you are?”

The man groans and shifts the weight of the boxes onto one arm. With his other hand free, he tugs out his green and blue employee vest. The name tag pops off in the struggle. “You but older, handsomer and wiser. Are you helping me or not?”

Sicheng jumps to action. He takes the boxes from the man’s hands and places them by the condom and smokes section.

“I was told by Sehun-hyung that a worker named Yuta will be joining me at noon. Aren’t you a bit early?” Sicheng notes, trying to hide his surprise.

The man wipes the sweat from his brows and helps himself to a can of Pocari sweat. “Your Sehun-fucking-hyung threw me on a wild sheep chase this morning, collecting the shipments meant for this store at the FamilyMart across the fucking campus. So if I’m _‘a bit early’_ you can thank Sehun-fucking-hyung for it.” He spits out in scathing remark.

A snort of laughter escapes Sicheng’s lips.

The man narrows his sharp, expressive eyes.

Sicheng picks up the name tag- _YUTA_ and returns it to its owner.

“Nice to meet you, Yuta-hyung.”

Yuta swipes it from Sicheng’s outstretched hand. “Not nice.” He grumbles.

Sicheng points a thumb at the boxes of condoms. “No, not just nice. Very nice.”

Yuta rolls his eyes, then finally, finally, his lips curl into a wide smile.

“Sicheng, right?”

Sicheng straightens. “Yes sir.”

“Nice to meet you.” Yuta extends his hand. Sicheng meets him in the middle.

“Pleasure’s mine.”

 


End file.
